


Dr Feelgood

by viinceneil



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019), The Dirt (2019) Actor RPF, The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band Book - Mötley Crüe & Neil Strauss
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24773167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viinceneil/pseuds/viinceneil
Summary: Y/N often likes to remind Mick of what he could have, if he kept his promise of sobriety...***Originally posted on wattpad.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Dr Feelgood

The production of Dr Feelgood was grueling. Completely and utterly fucking exhausting.

And to make matters worse, the band were officially clean and tensions, between them all, were at an all time high.

You'd all moved up to Canada for the recording, mainly because the guys' manager had decided that there were too many distractions in Los Angeles. But you all know what he meant by that.

It pained you, day in day out, seeing Mick struggle as much as what he was. Gradually, sobriety got better, but there were some days where he just didn't care if he fell straight back off the wagon--all of them were the same in that sense.

So, you'd always take it upon yourself to remind him all that he had, and all that he would have, if he kept up his promise of abstinence...

One evening, when everyone was out at dinner, Mick decided it'd be nice if the two of you just kept yourselves to yourselves, watched a movie and spent the night alone--you didn't get to do that all too much while in Vancouver.

"This is nice" you said softly, tone full of contentment, as you leaned backwards to rest against his chest. "We should do this more often."

"Yeah, we should" be ran a hand through your hair, sighing softly to himself "I'll make sure the guys go out more often."

You both shared a laugh as you turned around, noticing the smile he had slapped on his face, your eyes meeting his while you began to blush slightly.

Mick moved your hair from your face, tangling his hand between your locks, and bringing your face close to his. He pressed his lips against yours, and you almost instantly lifted yourself in his hold to straddle his waist--you weren't wasting any time...you didn't know how long you both had until the others got back.

You lifted the oversized shirt you had on over your head, and threw it to the side. Mick's eyes lighting up when he realized that you weren't wearing anything else besides your panties. A soft moan left your lips when his calloused fingers traced around your clit through the thin fabric, your hands around his neck, nails scratching his skin every so often.

Mick wasn't wearing much either, just a pair of sweatpants--which you had absolutely no trouble in taking off him.

"Baby--" you whimpered while he began to tug at your panties, his hand firmly pressed against your warmth, just watching as your eyes began to flutter.

You lifted yourself off of his lap, while your hands still clung to his neck, taking off your underwear and, like your shirt, launching them across the room.

Mick's eyes traced up and down your form, not quite believing how lucky he was to have you. You were everything that he ever wanted. And the fact that you had stuck by him before, during, and after his intense rehab stint, just made him feel as though you were completely too good to be true.

Your hips ground against his in an attempt to aid the heat rising from your core, and that was very satisfying to him.

"Mick, please" your eyes burrowed into his, a little pout tugging at your lips because you knew he was never able to resist the look. "I need you."

That was all the convincing that he needed.

He reached between the pair of you, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it over your clit, agonizingly slow. Your eyes began to flutter once more, and you were almost salivating at the pleasure that such a minor act was giving you--he always knew his affect on you.

Slowly, you began to sink down onto him, moaning out as he filled you up, and he let out a low groan and a "fuck."

You reached behind him to grab a hold of the couch, while you started to ride him, whimpering when his hands met your hips and he squeezed your skin, aiding your movements.

"Fuck, y/n--god, you're so wet."

"All for you, baby" you threw your head back, your hands now atop of his as you moved yourself in circular motions, feeling Mick's length hitting your sweet spot.

Mick began to meet your movements, thrusting into you while your body began to shake at the intense wave of pleasure that was starting to wash over you.

In the heat of the moment, he decided that seeing you on top of him just wasn't enough--and he, somehow, flipped the two of you over whilst still fucking.

Your back arched off of the couch, his fingers pressing into your thighs as he pushed himself into you to the hilt, hitting that all important sweet spot once more, making you cry out louder than what you thought was possible.

Red lines traced Mick's arms from where you'd been clawing at them with your nails, the sting of your touch only making him get rougher with you--just how you liked it.

You wrapped your legs around his abdomen, squeezing tightly to stop yourself from releasing, but causing Mick to groan out at the feeling of your walls closing in around his cock.

While concentrating on his movements, moans spilling from your lips, you reached down between your legs and traced circles around your clit at the same pace as what he was fucking you--the pleasure almost completely consuming you.

"Fuck, babe, I'm so close--so close" you croaked out, noticing how he was starting to smirk at your sudden state of fluster.

He leaned in, kisses trailing from the base of your neck to below your ear, whispering "let it go, baby."

Your hands tangled in his hair as your chest pressed up against his, focusing on your orgasm that was fast approaching. It was starting to get difficult to hold on, especially given that he was kissing you in that spot you so dearly loved.

Mick moved backwards, pushing into you deeper, giving you all that he possibly could've. It was the way that he looked down at you and smirked, hands caressing your bare thighs, that almost caused you to release.

"Ahh! Fuck--" an obnoxious, pornographic moan falls from in between your lips, and you feel your walls involuntarily tighten around his cock.

You ride out your high, palming your tits, and Mick watches you with a small grin, feeling satisfied that he's the reason you're coming undone over and over again.

It's only a matter of minutes before you fully release, and the rate at which your body squirms as he still relentlessly fucks you in pursuit of his own orgasm, almost gets him to fall over the edge.

But what really gets him is when your eyes met his for a few seconds, and your mouth fell open, before moans, a string of curses and Mick's name escaped your lips--he loved hearing you repeat his name back to him like some kind of mantra.

He slammed into you a few more times, before he threw his head back, still holding onto your thighs, and letting out a "holy shit, y/n. That was" he thrusted into you again, just making sure that he was done "fucking incredible."

"Tell me about it" you moaned when he pulled out, still hovering above you, but leaning to the side to pick up the shirt that you discarded. "I think that's the best that you've ever fucked me."

"Really?" You nodded, silently thanking him when he handed you the shirt, "the next time we fuck will be 10x better. I swear."

"The next time? When will that be..." you trailed off, tracing your hand across his arm, your breath getting a little heavier when his eyes cloud over and he stares back down at you.

A little yelp falls from your lips, followed by a laugh, when he pulls you to your feet, and begins to walk hurriedly toward the bathroom.

"Round two?" He asks, opening the door, before heading to the shower and flicking the switch. His smile returns when he looks back to you and, once again, you've shed yourself of that damn shirt.

"Let's go."


End file.
